Pressure
by BalancedColor
Summary: "Careful," he whispered in my ear, keeping his muscular arms wrapped around my tiny frame. Just when I was beginning to relax in his hold, I glanced at the sandy shore and immediately tensed up at the disapproving person standing on the shore. Beck followed my gaze, and his eyes filled with rage. Oh God. This wouldn't end well.
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

_"In my victory, just remember me,"_

_"when I make it shi-"_

The upbeat tune blasting from my alarm clock was interrupted by the abrupt slam of my lethargic hand. Letting my eyes slowly creak open, I squinted at the blinding sunlight pouring through my bedroom window, covering the entire room in natural lighting. I groaned loudly at having my slumber disturbed, and pulled my blanket over my head to shade myself from the brightness, squeezing my eyes shut while doing so.

It was the first day of summer. How could I have forgotten to unplug my alarm clock to save myself the greif of waking up at six o`clock? To make matters worse, if I did get up, I would have absolutely nothing to do but sit on our back porch and fry my legs. Every other sane teenager was still dozing, and would probably still be doing so until noon, if not later.

"Hey, Kitten!" I heard a painfully chipper voice sing along with the sound of the opening of my bedroom door. I muffled an aggravated scream under the blanket, and slowly lifted my head to see Frankie standing at my door with a wild grin. "Want some breakfast?!"

Like I said, any _sane_ teenager was sleeping at this hour. Frankie was undoubtedly demented.

I allowed my eyes to focus on the room's brightness and stifled a laugh when I saw Frankie's goofy chef hat. He grinned once more at me, before wiping a streak of flour off of his tan face. "I heard your alarm go off, and figured you may need some motivation to get out of bed. Want some pancakes?"

Smiling at my brother's kindness, I nodded lightly as I finally sat up in my bed, stretching my limbs widely. "Are they chocolate chip pancakes?"

"If you want them to be," he informed me, before stifling a chuckle. "But you may want to do something with your hair before you go outside to flirt with Beck."

My smile immediately faded at his statement, and I tossed a pillow at him in annoyance. He easily dodged it, and slipped out of my room before I could shout obscenities at him. I could hear his laugher echoing down the stairs, which only made me angrier. However, part of me wanted to thank Frankie, for he had unintentionally reminded me that Beck was always up this early during summer vacation, working at his parent's seafood resteraunt.

Sliding out of bed and running a hand through my messy brown locks, I padded over to my bedroom mirror and reached for a brush. There was no need for me to shower this morning, seeing as I would get drenched in sweat the minute I'd step outside. Besides, I didn't have time to wash my hair _and _style it. I had to be ready by the time Beck left for work, which was in exactly fourty five minutes.

After running a brush through my hair and spending a good twenty minutes in the bathroom, I wriggled into a pair of denim shorts and a tank top and applied the only makeup I wear during the summer: chapstick. Needless to say, I looked grusome during summer vacation - and it didn't bother me at all. Reaching for the only bottle of perfume I owned - some brand by the name of _Sweet Pea_ - I slowly sprayed on a few pumps, and smiled at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. On a second thought, I pulled my hair back into a high ponytail and was pleased with my appearance.

Slipping my feet into a pair of flip-flops, I quickly made my way downstairs, and I was greeted by the aroma of breakfast-y goodness. Sauntering into the kitchen, my face lit up at the sight of Frankie expertly slicing tomatoes - probably making an omlette for himself - and looking like a Food Network chef while doing so. Although - I'll admit - the frilly pink cupcake apron was utterly ridiculous. I knew my brother was flamboyant, but some things were just too much to handle.

"Smells good," I pointed out, reaching for a bowl of fruit he had prepared.

"Thanks," he replied, swatting my hand away. "That's for Trina when she comes over."

I raised my eyebrows at this, before stifling a giggle. "_Oooh,_ I see! So you've got a crush on my best friend? Isn't that a bit cliched?"

He gave me an incredulous look, making me howl in laughter. Frankie liking Trina was such a ludicrus idea that it was hilarious just to contemplate it. However, that would just be the type of scandal that would make this summer a heap more interesting, in the tragic event that mine and Beck's romance did not blossom. "Oh, do you notice something different about me?"

Frankie glanced at me, analyzing my appearance from head to toe. He arched an eyebrow at me as he slid made his way towards the stove, heating it up. "Um... Let's see.. You're wearing the perfume I got you for your birthday?"

"No!" I half-yelled impatiently. "I mean, yes - I _am_ wearing the perfume - but that's not what's different."

"You forgot to put a bow in your hair?"

"I didn't _forget_, Frankie." Realizing he wasn't going to guess without a hint, I let out an exasperated sigh. "The tank top. Do you notice anything about the tank top?"

Reaching for a pan from a cabinet, Frankie shook his head as he examined the neon blue tank top I had adorned. A few minutes passed of him rummaging for a pan while still glancing at my top every few secondsm before he finally gave up. "No. Is it new?"

"Is it straight-from-an-X-rated-film or what?" I asked happily, smiling lightly. This was the most revealing shirt I owned (but it had nothing on what some of the girls in town wore) and I had a feeling it would really get Beck's attention. When Frankie stifled a laugh, though, my good feeling died a bit. "What are you laughing at?!

"It's just... Cat, it's not revealing at all," he honestly told me, reaching for an egg. "Besides, you shouldn't feel like you need to exploit your body to get Beck to notice you."

"This wasn't for Beck!" I protested a bit too loudly, making my actions show the falseness of my words. "I just want to try a new style for summer."

"_Right,"_ Frankie agreed, his voice thick with sarcasm. "So, since this _is_ just for a new look, then I won't hesitate to help you enhance it." - he paused to snag a few eggs from the fridge - "Cat, you've got to stop wearing Robbie's old shorts. They hug your hips in all the wrong places."

I recoiled in horror at this statement. Robbie was Beck's younger step brother, and our neighbor for the past fourteen years. Since Robbie was so scrawny and underweight, I was always able to fit into his hand-me-downs. I was always eager for Robbie to hit a growth spurt. Free clothes! I always loved boy's clothes because they were so baggy, comfortable, and they kept me cool in the summertime, but Frankie's jab just then made me feel immediately self-concious.

"Well, I don't have time to change now," I sadly admitted, glancing at the clock hanging on our kitchen's wall. "I've gotta go! Tell Mom I went on a walk."

As I was walking out the door, I heard Frankie scold me for making him cook pancakes I didn't even eat. Thankfully, I was already stepping out the door onto our front porch, so Frankie would have a lot of running to do if he decided to chase me around town like he usually did.

The moment I was outside, I was greeted by the familiar salty smell of the nearby Pacific Ocean mixed in with the aroma of fried seafood from the restaraunt across the street. I loved living in Venice Beach, where the ocean was my backyard and sunshine was constant. Swimming all the time also made me toned and tanned, making my skin complexion something I admired about myself. Almost as an added bonus, I was blessed enough to live next door to the sexiest guy in California (second only to Zac Efron), and had the opportunity to grow up with him.

However, growing up surrounded by Robbie, Beck, Frankie, and our other neighbor Danny had its disadvantages. For instance, Beck and Danny fought about _everything._ I'm not talking arguments, I mean they fight to draw _blood_. They always have, and I'm surprised they don't get lightheaded from all of the blood they lost by knocking eachother in the nose on countless occasions. And guess who's the one who always has to run to their parents' houses and tell on them? You guessed it. One would think that once they entered high school the fights would slowly simmer out, but they actually got much more violent, and frequent. Beck and Danny are always in competition. They're always trying to see who can do the most push-ups, or who can catch the most fish, who can swim the fastest, but it doesn't stop at athletic competitions. They have to see who can make the best grades in school, who can join more extracurricular activities, and who can date the most girls. It gets annoying watching them push themselves just so see the other fail. Somehow they still claim to be best friends despite all of the fights.

Stopping for a moment to coo over Champ, our Beagle pup, I froze when I heard the front door of the Oliver-Shapiro house open and shut. Shooting straight up and glancing towards their home, my face lit up when I saw both Robbie and Beck slowly strolling down their porch steps. Robbie looked as awkward as ever, wearing baggy shorts that were undoubtedly hand-me-downs he had yet to grow into, and a sleeveless shirt that displayed his toned arms. Robbie may have been skinny, but he had built up quite a bit of muscle trying to keep up with Beck and Danny all these years. His tiny 'fro was sticking out in all directions, yet he wasn't wearing his black wide-brimmed glasses today. Beck must've "accidentally" broken them (it wouldn't have been the first time).

Beck looked as gorgeous as ever, his shaggy dark brown locks shining in the summer sunlight. He bore baggy, dark brown cargo shorts and a plaid button-down t-shirt,both of which looked brand new. Robbie had countlessly complained to me how unfair it was for Beck, the oldest child, to get brand-new clothes all of the time, and Robbie was stuck with used ones (he had conveniently forgotten that I had to wear _his_ used clothes, and I'm a _girl_). It was impossible to imagine Beck in hand-me-downs, since it was impossible to imagine him dressed in awkward clothing. It just wasn't Beck's style, and unfortunately, it _was_ Robbie's style.

Rushing down our porch's steps and jogging up the street to catch up with them, I straightened my clothing while doing so (God forbid my shorts looked as awkward as Frankie had implied). Fluffing up my ponytail one last time, I smiled warmly before calling out to them. "Good morning!"

They simultaneously turned around, stopping for me to catch up with them. Robbie wore a cheeky grin, whereas Beck gave me a carefree smirk that could melt anyone's heart. I quickly walked towards them, being careful of not sliding down the sidewalk in my slippery flip-flops. _Oh my God, there must be a law against being so good-looking._

"Hey Cat!" Robbie smiled, his curly locks bouncing as he nodded a greeting at me. "Happy summer vacation!"

I turned to give him a smile, but gasped lightly when I saw a gruesome looking sore on Robbie's lip. "What happened _this_ time, Rob?"

"He hit his head against the jet ski steering wheel yesterday," Beck answered, stifling a laugh at his step-brother's misery. I sighed heavily, since it was no surprise at all. In fact, it sounded like it was bound to happen to Robbie eventually.

Robbie's entire life one giant episode of _Jackass._ Like Beck and Danny, he would do anything we dared him to do without question. However, the boys were all spawns of Satan when it came to daring each other, and they knew that daring each other to do something awful was just as good as getting into a fist-fight. This resulted in Robbie breaking his leg in three different places when he was eight ("Hey! Bet you can't jump from the pier and land on your feet!") , cracking eight of his ribs when he was thirteen ("Dare you to do a back-flip clicker on the jet ski!"), and dozens of more bone-breaking injuries. Heck, he'd even do something dangerous on his own. This kid was the epitome of a daredevil.

"So I see you're not wearing one of Robbie's shirts today?" Beck pointed out as we began to walk in sync, motioning towards my tank top. My grin couldn't have been wider. He _had_ noticed my shirt, aha! What did_ Frankie _know?

"Yeah, well, I decided it was time for a change," I cooly replied, giving him a smile. By "change," I hadn't meant outfits at all. I meant that me and Beck's friendship could _change_ into a loving relationship. Of course, he didn't catch my hint, and did not say anything else. Hmph.

"Is Danny coming to work?" Robbie asked, wiping his sweaty brow with a quizzical look. Danny usually joined them on their morning commute to their parents' seafood restaurant, but he hadn't came marching out of his house yet.

"He better," Beck replied, frowning slightly. "I'm not doin' his work for him."

Just then, I heard a message jingle come from Robbie's shorts pocket. Slipping his PearPhone out, he read the message swiftly. "Speak of the devil, it's Danny. Says he's in a bind and can't make it to work."

Beck paused, rage in his eyes. "'In a bind'? The hell does that mean?"

"He's probably sick or something," I replied, folding my arms. "Or maybe he just didn't want to show up today."

I shouldn't have added the last part, because it seemed to make Beck even more annoyed. If there was one thing he hated, it was laziness. He hated covering for someone that work even if the person was hospitalized, getting their stomach pumped (Robbie. Eleven. Worm-eating contest.). Beck thought that since he never missed work - sick or well - that no one else should. His hard-working state of mind was one of the many things that made him the ideal boyfriend.

"Just peachy," Beck growled under his breath, before turning to face me. "Looks like you're gonna have to fill in for Danny, Cat."

A punishment worse than death, hoho. A day spent with Beck was the perfect way to kick off summer vacation. A chance to move things along, and to attempt to ward off any flirtatious customers (both male and female - Beck attracted both genders) from advancing on what I had already claimed. As an added bonus, Mrs. Oliver-Shapiro (whom we just called by "Jackie") was no cheapskate, and paid her employees well for spending a day working hard.

The situation was almost too good to be true.

I couldn't help but keep a grin plastered on my face from then until ten minutes later as I carefully pinned my name tag on my shirt (Well, it wasn't _my_ name tag. Jackie only kept name tags for Beck, Danny, herself, and Robbie. So mine read in obnoxiously large handwriting: "Hello. My name is DANNY."). I loved my alarm clock so much for waking me up early, thus giving me the opportunity to walk with Beck to his job, and thus giving me the chance to spend the entire day working with him.

"Hello, Danny." I turned to see Beck suavely strolling through the employee break room where I was, and giving me a smirk as he reached for something on a high shelf (the boy was 6'2, he barely had to lift his arm).

I rolled my eyes, trying to appear unfazed by his joke, but on the inside I was having an aneurysm. Using the same tone he had used, I replied, "Hello, Beck."

"You waiting tables today or helping out back?" He asked, making casual conversation as he rummaged through the tiny tin box that had once rested on the shelf.

_Whatever you're doing,_ was what I wanted to say. Instead, I made my undying attraction towards him less obvious. "I'll do whatever your mom tells me to."

"Hm?" He murmured, grabbing a sharp-looking tool and observing it carefully. He had his dark eyebrows furrowed in focus and his luscious lips tightly pursed. "I figured you'd just answer waiting tables. You end up smelling like raw shrimp and fish guts if you help in the back with preparing the food."

_Okay. Ew._

"I'll keep that warning in mind," I replied, feeling my stomach churn. A few years back, I had mistake of letting Robbie and Danny embrace me in a big group hug, engulfing me in the horrid scent of dead marine life. I'll never make that mistake again.

I was hoping we could go into a more in-depth conversation that would result in - oh, I don't know - him falling madly in love with me, but he just stuffed the sharp object in his pocket and walked out of the break room. I sighed heavily, standing up and brushing imaginary dirt off of my shorts.

"Caterina!" Jackie poked her head in the door, her eyes shining as she smiled at me. "You'll be a waitress, okay? Robbie and Beck can take care of fishing and gutting the seafood - it's men's work anyway - and I'll do the cooking. Got it?"

I nodded obediently, giving her a thumbs up. Her head disappeared and I could hear her flip flips squeak against the restaurant's polished wooden floors. Jackie was a quirky woman who - standing at 4'9" - was almost a literal _ball_ of sunshine (not saying she was chubby or anything - she's the average weight for a woman her age. She just _looks_ heavier due to her height). She's the reason the restaraunt, "Jackie's Oyster House", does so well. She has the rare talent of attracting customers with her broad smile, her charismatic personality, and her mild sense of humor.

However, Jackie's upbeat nature is not the only thing that keeps customers wheeling in. Having three handsome teenage employees heavily contributes to the place's positive reputation. Beck and Danny are both so charming that female guests order more just to be able to sneak another peek at them, and Robbie is so clumsy that they even find him cute. That's why she never wasted money on other employees, because none of them get out good publicity like the boys.

Slowly making my way out of the employee break room, I sighed dreamily at the view the back of the restaurant held - a large, cerulean blue pond. Windows lined the back of the restaurant to those who dined in could be graced with the lovely view. Since the pond was so close to the ocean, it too held a bit of salt water and a few sea creatures not normally found in small bodies of water inhabited it. I vaguely remembered getting thrown into the pond after losing a bet with Danny, who seems absolutely ecstatic at the idea of throwing me into a body of water filled with slimy fish and disgusting bryozoa. I hugged my arms to keep myself from shivering at the thought.

_"EEEWWWW!_

I heard a loud scream, making myself squeak loudly in unison. With wide eyes, I analyzed the dining hall where I stood and found it completely empty. Whoever had screamed was outside, meaning I was going to _avoid_ going outdoors. Well, I _was,_ until I heard Beck's laugher follow after a few minutes. What in the name of God was he laughing at? Puzzled, I briskly made my down the hallway, zipping past the photography hanging on the walls. Flinging open the dark oak door leading to the back of the restaurant, my eyes widened at the sight before me.

Sprawled out of the pond's murky shore, their body covered with rotten-smelling shrimp, were Beck and Robbie. Robbie's 'fro was disassembled and messy, and he looked ready cry with his wrinkled-up nose. His clothes were soaking wet, since he fell into damp sand on the shore. Beck, on the other hand, was still guffawing loudly, his clothing just as muddy as Robbie's. Jackie was standing there, her tan face beet red, screaming profanities at them for wasting her merchandise.

"Relax, Jackie," Beck told her in a soothing tone, whiping a tear from his eyes, a sex-appeal smile on his face. "Believe me, the fishermen are gonna _love _this."

He was referring to the fishermen who paid to catch fish in the pond. However, the smell was so repulsive back there that they often complained to Jackie, who always told them that there was nothing she could do about it, and that it shouldn't disrupt their fishing anyway (then they came up with the crappy excuse that the odor "wards off the fish"). Beck and Jackie both remarked that they just liked to make excuses because they sucked at fishing. The stronger the scent, the better excuses they had to their fishing buddies.

"I don't want to hear it, Beck!" Jackie hollered, her voice raspy. "Now both of ya'll, go across the street and rinse your smelly asses off in the ocean!"

I didn't wince when she swore. I was almost always around when Jackie yelled at her sons, which happened quite frequently. When we first moved in next door to them, I thought she was bipolar because she was so sunny at work, yet terribly horrifying at home. Then, as I began to grow up with Beck and Robbie, I realized she _had_ to be intimidating in order to discipline them.

Beck, despite his step-mother's rage, was still guffawing loudly, making her yell louder as he struggled to get up between fits of laughter. Robbie, on the other hand, looked thoroughly disgusted, and observed his soiled shirt with distaste.

"Ya'll better be back before the lunch wave comes in!" She screamed as they sheepishly began to approach the back porch where I stood. She was intelligent enough to stop them. "Hey! I don't want ya'll filling _my_ restaurant with that funky smell! Go around!"

They both froze, just a couple of feet away from the steps. Beck, whom was still trying to keep down the volume of his snickers, came me a grin. "Wanna go swimming with us, Cat?"

_Oh, happy day!_ My heart leaped in my chest as I nodded eagerly, hurrying down the steps to walk with them. Hanging out with Beck fully clothed was one thing, but a shirtless Beck was like some sort of PlayGirl fantasy. Besides, fish hardly swam near the ocean shore due to all of the swimmers, and it was thoroughly seaweed-free!

However, my fantasies where blasted to smithereens when I realized a shocking, tragic fact. The only bathing suits I owned were baggy one-pieces in gaudy, hideous patterns. Not sexy. Beck would _not_ be impressed, nor would it contribute to my separating myself from my tomboyish ways. I didn't own a single bikini, which was exactly what I needed in order to get the plan moving at double the speed. Who did I know that owned a bikini...

"Before we go, though," I told them, casually reaching for my Pearphone. "I've got to make a _very_ important phone call."


	2. Chapter Two

**I'm slowly - but surely - updating the story!  
In case you didn't notice, I kind of gave this story a little facelift. I merged chapter two and one together, since chapter two didn't really have much of a backbone to stand as it's own piece of the story. I also deleted the chapter names, since I suck at making them up. So, yeah. There's that explanation. Er, enjoy the story.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

"Okay, take your pick."

I stayed silent, glancing at everything with wide eyes. The sight was really a bit mind-boggling. There stood Trina, in an uncomfortable-looking pose, pointing towards at least ten Victoria's Secret bikini's that probably cost a ridiculous amount of money. Honestly, they all looked the same to me. I don't know why she was asking _me_ to pick out one, considering I had the fashion sense of a blind nun.

"Cat, I can't read minds," Trina informed me, her arms falling at her sides. "You're gonna have to tell me which one you want to borrow."

"Whatever fits, I guess."

She rolled her eyes, letting out an overly dramatic groan. "You sound just like a boy!"

I'll admit, I was used to people saying that. Still, that didn't stop it from hurting each time. I heard it everywhere: At school, at soccer practice, even strangers gave me weird looks when I'm strolling through Hibbit Sports searching for a new pair of cleats. I mean, I was clearly a girl. There was no doubt in that. It just offended me that people would go as far as to insult my hobbies and interests, when it was clearly none of their business. Just because I wasn't one hundred percent into shopping and makeup didn't make me any less of a female. Besides, I don't mean to toot my own horn, but if you say me in a bikini, you would _know_ I was a fully developed woman.

Besides, the bikini's were all the _exact same shade of pink._ The only difference was the white polka dots on them were a different size on each bikini. Did it honestly matter which one I picked? Did it even matter? Yes, it kind of did, actually. It just didn't matter enough for a fuss to be made over it. Leave it to Trina to over-react to every single thing.

Honestly, I didn't like Trina at first. Her outspoken and girly personality was generally too much for me to handle. However, considering she was the only girl in my homeroom in the seventh grade, we kind of teamed up then and stuck together until now. We have no similar interests, and don't even act all that much alike, but somehow we still get along. Strange how friendships work.

"I guess I'll take the one with the tiny polka dots...?" I finally said, fondling with a stray strand of my hair. I glanced at Trina for her sign of approval, but she had already disappeared back into her closet, singing loudly and very off-key. I winced at the ear-splitting noise, but couldn't help but snicker when I recognized the lyrics from a popular Maroon 5 song. Trina may have been an obnoxious, aggressive idiot, but she sure was humorous. Moments later, she reappeared with an armful of even _more_ bikini's.

"While you were sitting there gawking at the pink bathing suits, I got to thinking," she told me, resting the pile of bathing suits next to me on the bed. "Pink isn't your color. You should look at _these_ instead!"

Slowly picking up a mint green bottom and examining it carefully, I bit my lip nervously. I had never really worn a bikini before, and I was beginning to think of how in books and movies where a girl wore a bikini, the top usually ended up getting ripped off by the rough waves of the ocean. If that happened to me, on today of all days, I could go ahead and hang up any the chances I had of ever being seen as more than the girl next door to Beck.

Trina gasped loudly. "_Yay!_ I was hoping you'd pick the mint green one! It's my personal favorite, and I'm sure it'll look great on you, too!"

When I sat there for a few more seconds, doing absolutely nothing, she aggressively pulled me up to my feet. "_Well?_ Go try it on!"

Slowly making my way into her bathroom, bathing suit in hand, I was sure to knock before entering. Trina's younger sister, Tori, was dramatic like her sister. Walking in on her while she was taking a piss would have sent her over the deep end. When no one replied to my knocking, I went ahead into the bathroom and quickly changed into the bathing suit. It's design was a bit difficult, and it took me a few minutes to tie the back of the top and the sides of the bottom. Despite that, in ten minutes, I was standing in the middle of Trina's bedroom - erect and unmoving - as she evaluated my appearance. _So _this_ is how those girls feel on America's Next Top Model. _

"I was right, like always," she gushed, clasping her hands together. "You look great. Well - almost."

She pulled my hair out of my ponytail, and grabbed a brush. Confused, I raised my eyebrows at her. "Uh, Trina. I'm about to go into salty, murky sea waters. My hair is gonna end up getting messed up."

"You _still_ play in the waves? Cat, you're a sixteen-year-old girl! You're supposed to just chill out on the shore and look good."

"Well _excuse me_ for wanting to have fun!"

She narrowed her eyes at me as she finished toying with my hair. "Beck isn't gonna like you with you're hair all tangled up in seaweed, and makeup running down your face."

Trina was lucky she was my best friend, or I would have punched her in the mouth by now. She and Frankie were the only two people who knew of my life-long crush on Beck, and they both teased me about it every chance they got. I made them swore to never, ever tell anyone else (I'd had to threaten Trina - she has a big mouth), but I should have made them swear to just never speak of it.

"Joke's on you. I'm not _wearing_ any makeup." Chapstick doesn't count.

I clasped my hand over my mouth, immediately regretting what I said as a wide grin spread across Trina's face. She reached for a large, sparkling bag overflowing with cosmetics from brands like Urban Decay, MAC, and CoverGirl. Whipping out a bottle of mascara, her eyes glinted with mischief. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"_No,_ Trina," I told her forcefully, folding my arms. "I refuse to walk on that beach looking like a circus clown."

Of course, she ignored my protests, and began to attack my face with different eye shadows, eyeliners, mascaras, and whatever else kind of makeup went on your eyes. She then started on the full-face makeup, then my lips, then my eyebrows. It was extremely tedious. Just when I thought she was done, she would grab another product and take what felt like forever to apply it. As impatient as I was, this was basically hell on earth for me.

She finally applied one last coat of lip gloss, and tossed the tube into the bag. Stepping back to observe her work, she grinned, but remained silent. I was already irritable, so it was no surprise when I scowled at her. "Well? Are you gonna just stand there like an incompetent dumb ass or tell me how hideous I look?"

"You look great."

Turning to face her vanity mirror, I smiled widely when I saw the reflection staring back at me. Trina had done a pretty nice job. My eyes looked smoky, my skin looked flawless, and my eyebrows were perfectly arched (we practically had a brawl when she reached for the tweezers just minutes ago). My hair, which was longer than I thought it was, looked kind of glossy, and not as frizzy as usual.

I felt Trina's eyes boring into my skull, and I knew she was waiting for me to respond. I turned to her with a wide grin. "Thanks, Trina. You're good at what you do."

She squealed loudly, and pulled me into a forceful, bone-crushing hug. "Yay! I knew you'd love it! _And - _since I know you're going to be disobedient and go swimming - all of the make-up is one hundred percent waterproof, so you don't have to worry about looking like Lindsay Lohan in 2009."

Throwing a beach towel and a pair of sunglasses into my arms, Trina gave me a dazzling smile, and I immediately remembered why she was my best friend. She may seem like a selfish, obnoxious twat from a distance, but she genuinely cared about the people she was close to. Well, except for Tori.

"Now," she said, handing me my PearPhone. "Go steal Beck's heart."

Remember what I said about her being overly-dramatic?

* * *

As it turned out, I had only spent fifteen minutes at Trina's house. For someone who spent hours in the bathroom daily, Trina sure did fix me up in a jiffy. I was just praying that the delicious-smelling perfume she had sprayed on me wouldn't attract ignorant, hungry seagulls (never, ever bring McDonald's food to the beach; you'll get attacked).

Despite Trina's speedy makeup application, Beck and Robbie were already trying to drown each other in the seawater. Wading through the sand, I smiled as my toes wiggled through the warm grains. Venice Beach was the perfect place to spend the summer. It had a boardwalk with roller coasters, dozens of places to grab a bite to eat, the scenic ocean, and - of course - the cute guys. The cute,_ shirtless_ guys. Beck was _shirtless_.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I slowly approached the coastline, gently tossing my PearPhone into the sand, and trying to avoid stumbling too much in the bumpy ground. I heard Beck and Robbie's loud laughter at one another's expense from where I stood, and knew they were either trying to make the other swallow a fish, or get them pulled under by a wave.

Tell me again how that was entertaining?

I was getting in the water no matter what Trina said - I had decided that before I even left her house. However, I was beginning to change my mind when I realized the water was _freezing._ It was a good one hundred degrees outside. How could the water be so cold? Biting my lip to keep from chattering my teeth, I felt goose bumps travel up and down my spine as I waded into waist-deep water. I frowned at Beck and Robbie, whom were taller than me and could go a little deeper into the water. They still hadn't noticed my presence, and were still noisily tormenting each other. Idiots.

Finally deciding they were too dense to notice me by themselves, I slowly began to swim to where they were. I felt the ends of my hair getting submerged in the water, and knew it was going to end up looking like damp spikes at the edges. Oh well, it wasn't like I asked for Trina to style my hair.

"Hey, Cat," Beck said in a chipper tone, greeting me with a splash in the face. I recoiled back in partial horror, imagining mascara and eyeliner running down my face. When I touched underneath my eyes, though, there was nothing.

"Hey yourself," I replied, giving pack a hearty splash. He flinched back and mockingly made the same face I must have when he splashed me seconds ago. I felt my cheeks burn in embarrassment, digging my feet into the murky sand underneath me.

I heard someone sniff loudly, and figured Robbie had just stayed underwater too long. However, when I heard him sniff loudly again, I turned to see him eyeing me with a wrinkled nose and a disgusted facial expression. His brows furrowed, he narrowed his eyes at me and loudly declared, "Cat, you smell like a baby prostitute."

I knew my face was red as I scowled at him, immediately feeling self-conscious. And he wondered why he never got a date! Robbie was totally inconsiderate when it came to girls! Every time I tried to fix up around Beck, Robbie was always there to make a pointless, snarky remark. Because of an embarrassing comment made last fall, I'm _never _wearing yoga pants again because of him.

"Shut up, dumbass!" I angrily replied. Childish comeback, I know, but it was all I could scrounge up from the fiery rage building up inside of me.

"Yeah, Robbie. Shut up," I heard Beck's masculine voice chime in as I felt a pair of arms slink around my waist. "Cat smells really nice."

I turned slightly and saw Beck's chin resting on my shoulder, and realized _his_ toned arms were the ones wrapped around my waist. His shaggy dark locks swept gently in the summer breeze, tickling my skin. My heart stopped as I felt my knees weaken.

Oh my God. Dying from happiness... I can't even... asdfghjkl. Is this real life?

I felt him lift me up, and my eyes widened as I realized the cruel and tragic truth of the situation. Turning my attention towards the ocean, I gasped in horror when a large wave flew into my line of vision. Kicking and screaming obscenities at Beck, I finally let my body fall limp in failure as I felt him forcefully throw me right into the wave.

Upon impact, the salt water felt like thousands of needles piercing my exposed flesh, stinging like hell and leaving my skin red. Rancid water filled my nostrils as I allowed my eyes to widen. Big mistake. I exposed my big brown eyes to the horrid water, and they began to burn. Flailing my arms upward, the forceful wave was carrying me towards the shore, making me stumble in the sand on the shallow ocean floor.

Finally recovering my balance, I kept my eyes shut until I was sure I was above water. Coughing and spurting out sea water, my throat, nose, and eyes burned from exposure to the salty liquid. After I calmed myself down, I was able to hear maniacal laughter over my own agony. Directing my burning eyes at Beck and Robbie, I was not surprised to see that they were both doubled over in laughter.

I wanted to be mad at Beck. Truth be told, I wanted to march across the street to his mom's lake, grab an armful of bryozoa, and make sure they mysteriously ended up in his underwear. I wanted to do whatever it took to make him feel the humiliation and discomfort I was feeling.

But then he smiled at me. It was one of those wide, 'I-was-just-kidding' smiles that held no trace of pity or mercy. Had Robbie been the one to toss me into the water, that smile would have made me all the more angrier. However, the second Beck gave me that smile, I immediately forgave him for everything.

_Damn it, Beck,_ I angrily thought, swimming my way towards the boys to torment them for laughing at me. _Why do you have to be so cute?_

* * *

**Hey, uh... I made a Tumblr so... Y'know, it'd be nice if you followed me... The link is on my profile... u_u**


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